


Finding The Way Back

by just_trying



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Comfort, Eating Disorders, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Q's Name (James Bond), R is Q's sister, Top James Bond, also q's cat's name is zuko fight me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:20:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28423095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_trying/pseuds/just_trying
Summary: Time apart and stressful missions and intelligence gone sideways finds Q worrying the least about his health, but the most about everything else. When Bond comes home, he brings Q down too.Note: Q doesn't actually have an ED (I don't know nearly enough to write eating disorders to the quality I want to) but he does have some food anxiety. Almost all of his experience comes from my own.
Relationships: James Bond/Q
Kudos: 56





	Finding The Way Back

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Hiding Behind Costumes, Revealing Everything](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21248621) by [AtoTheBean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtoTheBean/pseuds/AtoTheBean). 



> Back from the dead to contribute to a new fandom! HEAVILY inspired by AtoTheBean's wonderfully written "Dangerous Potential."
> 
> Again, Q doesn't have a full-on ED. Everything he goes through is from my experience having a hard time with food. I'm at risk of having an ED so I tagged it just in case it was a TW for someone. 
> 
> I intended this to be short since I couldn't get the idea of James just appreciating Q in his arms out of my head, but here we are. Hope you like it!

J: On the way back (sent 3 hours ago)

J: Feeling peckish tonight? (Sent 3 hours ago)

J: Q? (Sent 2 hours ago)

Q: Sorry. Been busy. See you later. (New message)

-

A low stakes mission complete with few issues and minimal damage done. Just the way M liked it (but not nearly as fun in Bond’s opinion). It wasn’t a harsh mission, but it was tiring either way, he thought as the plane touched down on British soil.

His government issued phone buzzed in his pocket. Swiping through all the boring logistic messages and reminders to report back to Six, he furrowed his brow seeing Q’s message. It was already 2300 and Q was still busy. Q hadn’t been in his ear recently. No contact at all.

There was a car waiting outside for him. Black, sleek, classic. Discrete. The quiet glow of backlit artwork welcomed him back to MI6. It was never really too late for government work to happen, but it was still mostly empty in the lifts. Bond nodded to the security guard on his way up.

The new Q branch always seemed like a sci-fi fan’s imaginary lair. This was mostly due to the fact that it really was that. It wasn’t quite necessary for specialty lighting and glass panes that transformed to whatever designed they wanted, but it was for the ambiance. It was an ambiance Bond had grown to like. Maybe it was because Q was Q, maybe not. Q branch had become partly his friend too. R and the boffins that either stared at him in awe when he walked in or grimaced knowing there was more kit to repair were familiar faces.

“Welcome back 007. It’s been a late night,” one of the boffins, Luke, murmured on his way to the restroom with his tie half undone.

“Anything I can help with?”

Luke paused, thinking about what a double oh agent would be useful for in their branch. “Tea. Everyone’s order is tacked on the fridge.”

It was hard not to grin. If the British had tea in their veins, Q branch outdid the stereotype more than was necessary. “I will be sure to do that, Luke.”

He did a small, two-finger salute before slumbering to the bathroom. The door quietly slid open, revealing the skeleton crew. Luke had been right. It was a long night for everyone. Everyone at their desks were either slumped over laptops or glaring at their empty mugs. He padded his steps as he walked in, not wanting to startle anyone.

“Evening, R,” Bond whispered.

Her hair was tied into a tight ponytail, but some whips of her front strands had escaped the elastic. “Oh, hi 007.” A hand covered a yawn. “Congratulations on a successful mission.”  
  
“Thank you. What are you and Q still doing this late at night. Luke told me it’s been a long night.” Bond leaned against her desk, impressed that it was still tidy.

“008 had some faulty intelligence. That should tell you enough.”

“I see,” Bond sighed. “Where’s Q?”

R frowned, spinning idly in her chair. “He should be coming back from one of the server rooms. He went to go check that nothing there had gone amiss.”

He eyed her fingers worrying at her nails. “And?”

“He hasn’t eaten very much. I tried. I found him staring at his reflection a few too many times.”

That didn’t sound good. “I will…check in with him, R.” She nodded weakly, partly due to the tired and partly due to the concern. “Tea? I’ve a treat for everyone.”

She liked far more energized hearing the single word. “Yes. Please. We shouldn’t really be more than an hour.”

Bond collected the rounds of mugs, memorizing who’s was who’s. Half of the mugs went into the dishwasher and half were on their way to being refilled. Every mission produced a new gift for either Q or the branch. Thankfully, this time’s had been some new teas. Just as Luke had promised, the list of tea orders was posted by the kitchen that really should have been renamed into a sustenance station. The list was unusually handwritten, every member with their own shapes of writing. Each mug was lined up and prepared exactly to order. As he waited the few minutes for the tea to steep, James could feel the ache to grab Q into his arms.

As far as he could remember, he’d lost everyone he’d ever cared about. Vesper and the old M and all the friends he had made. Life as a double-oh held the certainty of pain with the enticing lure of all the myth and grandeur. Flirting with and falling for Q had been hard. Painful almost. Q was young and brilliant. He needed someone with his energy, not a damaged war ship. But still, he’d latched onto the agent’s heart, challenging his own notion of self and replacing arrogantly straight with something along the spectrum. Bond would never be rid of strong women in his life. His relationship with Q hadn’t felt truly put together until R’s sisterly nod.

Just as Bond fought his own battles with himself, Q fought his too. R whispered words of anxious meals and painful reflections and past partners with their own issues of masculinity that had seeped into he brilliant brain of Q. It was never bad enough that he needed serious professional help, but it wasn’t easy.

A pair of authoritative footsteps cut through the room. He grabbed the handful of mugs for the first round of deliveries, making his way around. There was satisfaction in the thank you’s and compliments to the tea he’d bought. He saved one Scrabble mug for last. Q was sat in his chair, typing away at his laptop. Bond walked up the desk, positive that even if he were loud, Q wouldn’t notice.

He set the mug down on the desk. Q’s eyes flicked from the mug back to his screen and muttered a thanks. He paused, trailed his eyes up the attached hand and arm all the way up the the face. “007,” he sputtered.

“Hello, Q. Have you forgotten me already.”

“My apologies. I nearly forgot you were coming back at this hour.”

James kissed the top of Q’s head. “It’s alright. R’s told me what happened. You’ve much more to do?”

“Just a bit.” Q took a healthy sip of the tea and sighed as his shoulders sagged. “This is delicious.”  
  
“Special blend of earl gray,” James said simply. “Have you eaten?”

The brown haired boffin worried at the hem of his cardigan. “No, not yet.”

James put on an air of casualness. “Curry?”

“Yes please.”

The agent unclipped his Walther and the rest of his kit. “Unscathed, for my dear quartermaster.”

Despite his lack of sleep, Q’s cheeks blushed pink. “I confess I’m impressed, even if this was a no-loss mission to begin with. You’ve set the bar quite low, 007.”

There was no greater feeling than hearing a quip from Q. “If I set the bar low, I can continuously impress you.” He massaged at Q’s hand. “Let me know when you’re ready to leave. I’ll have a takeaway ready.”

-

An hour and a half later, they were settled back at Q’s flat that had turned into both of their flat. James had purposefully chosen food that would be fulfilling but not rich enough to tempt Q’s anxiety.

They chose to eat on the floor, deciding that they’d both spent far too long sitting in chairs. James could see the nervous looks at the boxes of food and made sure to keep up conversation. The more that he distracted Q, the less he thought about the food.

“Moneypants told me that your mission was labeled as ‘minimal damage.’ That’s not your style,” Q teased.

“It would be dangerous to have my style so associated with me, wouldn’t it?”

Q was unimpressed. “As if it isn’t already. You and Trevelyan.”

“Ridiculous. My style is nothing like his,” James argued. “Much more refined.”

“And yet all my tech comes back in all the same state. Broken in various states of irreparable.”

“You’d have fewer boffins on the team without my broken tech.”

“Ah yes, you’ve performed a great service,” Q deadpanned.

With some recording of a ballet playing on the telly, they washed up as a pair. James wrapped his arms around Q. “R let me know it was bad today,” he muttered into Q’s neck.

“I’m sorry, James,” Q quavered. “I-I tried to eat I really did.”

“You don’t have to apologize, love. Kneel however you want on the bed. I’ll feed the cats.”

He nodded weakly.

As Q stepped into their room, he was welcomed with the gentle flicker of candles and almost inaudible soft music coming from a speaker. Sometime between getting to the flat and then, James had lit the candles and uncovered the mirror they had in the corner of the room (they kept it covered during the night in the interest of Feng Shui). He pulled the cardigan over his head and knelt on the bed with legs bent on either side, wanting to actually feel his muscles stretch. It was more of a sitting position, but James had told him to kneel however he wanted. He sank into the bed with a sigh, closing his eyes to avoid flickering looks at the mirror.

With a tiny creak, the door opened. Q passively debated whether or not he should quiet the hinge’s noise later.

“Zuko could hardly wait to eat dinner.”

Q laughed a little. “I hope that doesn’t surprise you at this point. He acts like he hasn’t eaten his cat food in days.”

James took a few steps in front of the mirror. “Face me, pet. Talk all you want. Move whenever you want.” Q readjusted, keeping his eyes trained on James, who was unbuttoning the first few buttons and rolling up his cuffs. He climbed on the bed and settled behind Q, pressing his chest to Q’s back. “Look up.”

Q felt a thin, delicate chain settle around his neck, their version of a collar for less intense times. He sank even more into the mattress.

“May I unbutton your shirt?” James asked, making eye contact with Q through the mirror.

Q paused. “Yes, sir. Thank you for asking.”

“Keep your eyes up.” James mouthed along his neck, snaking a hand down the row of buttons. He undid each one with measured patience, counting their breaths together. When he felt Q’s hands start to fidget or freeze, he sucked at a particularly tender spot, relishing in the little noises. Eventually he reached the end of the shirt. As much as he loved undressing Q, he much preferred Q undressed and slid the shirt off his shoulders, letting it pool around his elbows.

“Was work keeping you too busy to eat today, darling?” He asked. Below him, he felt Q tense, opting for gentle massaging. “You’re not in trouble, pet. R saw you looking at yourself a lot.”

“I…didn’t feel like eating today, Sir, but I still felt too much.” Q tilted his head down to watch James’ hand. “Too big and too small. I think I was…feeling bad after the big dinners from last week.”

“Thank you for telling me.” James ran his hands around every expanse of skin he could find. “However you look, you always remind me that we are both alive, and I will remind you that we are alive too.”

Q reached a hand up to James’ head, not finding a need for any words. It wouldn’t be as easy as that to escape the low part of the cycle, but it was a reminder to start.

“Keep your hands on the bed now, pet,” he ordered with his mouth still softly on Q’s shoulders. He ran one hand up Q’s chest to wrap around his neck, fingers cradling his head. James looked up at the mirror. “God you’re gorgeous.”

He used his other hand to massage at Q’s growing erection, grinding the heal of his hand against the fabric. His fingers traced up and down delicately. James could hear Q’s breathing quicken and toyed at his zipper.

“Green,” Q sighed. He was used to sex and scenes ranging from lust-filled at the least to rough, but even without restraints and toys and ropes to signal subspace, that was the most relaxed he’d felt for at least the past week. The thin necklace of a collar wasn’t even near the most restrictive collar they have, but it felt more possessive than any of them had ever felt. Every place his fingers touched burned Q’s skin.

Jame’s hand slipped into Q’s underwear and spread around his cock and balls. His whole intention was to go slowly. Going quickly is always hot, but going slow is a challenge in patience and sensuality. Q’s head fell on his shoulder with a quiet groan, hands twitching on the bed. With James’ hand caging Q’s cock, ever tiny movement changed in ripples across his hand. He played for a while, changing the pressure in each one of his fingers and joints, moving his hand left or right, until Q was whining with impatience.

Q was lost in the sensation of all the minuscule movements. Every change resulted in pressure in another place. He felt himself twitch under James’ hand every time. All he wanted was to touch James’ legs around him and make him feel good too, but he fought to keep his hands on the bed. There was something hot about being unwound in his work pants, but he decided not to dwell on that. Eventually, he couldn’t help but rut lightly against James’ hand, feeling his cock leak in response. Q felt the hand envelope his cock. He bit his lip and moaned.

“You like when my hand is on your cock?” James whispered into the shell of Q’s ear.

Q keened through his teeth. “Y-yes, Sir.”

James stroked Q’s cock with slow, tight movements. He started quicker at the base and gradually slowed as he reached the red tip, watching as precome spurt from the tip. He explored Q’s chest, pinching his nipples into round nubs. Q couldn’t help the little gasps that left his mouth, even with his bottom lip between his teeth. “Tell me what you want, pet.”

“I want your cock, please,” Q whined.

Fingers slipped into Q’s mouth. “Get my fingers wet then.” A satisfied sound slipped from Q as he swirled his tongue around James’ fingers. The entire time, the hand pumping at his cock never ceased. “You’re already making a mess on my hand. Always so good for me.” There was nothing Q could do but push up into James’ hand in response.

When he felt his fingers were sufficiently coated from Q’s eager mouth, James pushed them both against the bed, spreading his legs wider to get better access to Q’s hole. He poured some lube onto his fingers and massaged lightly. Q throbbed in his hand as James slipped a finger in. He worked it in and out before adding another. All the while, Q’s head was swimming in pleasure. The fingers in his ass were hitting the perfect spots and the hand on his cock felt like heaven.

“Fuck me please, Sir.”

James hummed in appreciation. “So polite all the time. You can come whenever you want, pet, just let me know. Ok?”

“Yes.” Words were getting slurred in with moans, but Q just wanted to feel James pound his ass. Somewhere along the way, they’d both lost all their clothes.

“Turn over for me.” James wasted no time with any more teasing and solidly urged his cock into Q, knowing he was loose enough. They both groaned into each other’s mouths at the feeling. Q would always feel the stretch and fullness of James’ cock no matter how many times he took it. He tried to stay still, but they moved in tandem. Fucking slow and deep and relishing in the feeling of being connected.

“God you look so pretty taking my cock. Do you want me to make you come with my cock in your ass and my hand on your dick?” James practically growled with his teeth nipping at Q’s shoulders.

Q was practically beyond words. A needy sound escaped from his throat. Every now and then, some combination or “please,” “yes,” and “Sir” found their way in a string together, barely managing coherence. He felt like he’d been on the edge for ages. James’ thrusts got quicker and deeper as they slid against each other.

“J-james. I’m-“ Q cut off with a cry. His cock was twitching with every thrust in James’ hand.

“Come for me, pet.” It was somewhere between an order and an invitation, but Q’s back arched off the bed as he felt his orgasm pulse through him. James fucked him through, milking his cock of all its come and still buzzing with stimulation. He pulled out slowly and took it in his hands, jerking it with need. James lapped at the come on Q’s stomach and chest all the way up to his jaw, relishing in the fast heartbeat below him.

“You didn’t finish, Sir,” Q said hoarsely. “May I help you?”

James smiled with his lips loosely brushing Q’s neck. “Of course you may.”

Q took that as permission to touch and raised a hand up to James’ cheek, pulling them together for a kiss as he sat up. As he kissed down James’ torso, he could smell himself on his dom and lover’s skin. The notorious 007 had chosen him. _Him._ Of course with that came the great pleasure of sucking his cock. He could see how close James was, traceable veins and a red tip. He made his mouth available, taking the erect cock into his mouth and sucking the tip.

“Your lips look so pretty stretched around my dick,” James complimented, a hand threaded into Q’s curls.

Not bothering to stop to say actual words, Q hummed, letting the sound travel through his throat and vibrate through James’ cock, providing a deep groan from his partner. He flattened his tongue against the underside and pulled off slowly before taking the entirety of it into his mouth again. James allowed himself to get lost in the wet slide of Q’s throat. He fully intended to let Q do what he wanted and forced his hips still.

With every suck and swirl of Q’s tongue, James felt himself get closer and closer. It was a wonder what that man could do with his mouth. Just as he felt his orgasm, Q let James’ cock rest on his tongue as his hands stroked. James came with a groan, feeling both Q’s hands pull it out of him and his soft tongue waiting for his come. Q tiled his head up and let James see in his eyes that he wanted it.

James pulled Q up to meet him and captured his lips in a kiss. He licked in Q’s mouth, tasting his own cum in another mouth. “Look at you Quincy. My come on your lips and my bruises on you” He tilted Q’s head to face the mirror, tucking his head in the junction between his neck. “Only you look this handsome with my hand around your throat. Always _my_ gorgeous pet.”

Q raised his eyes to look at his reflection, and he saw. His lips were red and raw from biting, hair perfectly tousled from James’ hands, hickeys dotted along his neck, and the two of them together. He saw what James saw in him. Some kind of beauty and the afterglow of pleasure.

“Would you come to bed with me, Quinn?” James asked, pressing their foreheads together.

“Yes, James.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed this 3k word thing that was supposed to be 1k words! Kudos and comments are great. I love to hear from you! <3 (now to disappear for another year)


End file.
